


Mismatched Pack

by Higgystar



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kink Meme, werewolfAU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1352356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WerewolfAU from the Walking Dead Kink Meme: In a world where wolves and humans have been living together, if within their own cliques, for centuries, the end of the world causes them to have to live in closer contact than they're used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been centuries since the final war between wolves and humans. Deaths had stained both sides, blood ran rivers throughout the world and stained the ground red until finally they both decided it was enough. It took years to get used to living side by side, to integrate into one society and make it work, but there hadn’t been a war since that time. Sure there were still factions of hate for the other species on each side, but in general tensions were eased and the two species could live in peace side by side.

Though they could live upon the earth together there were still so many differences between them that could not be ignored. Wolves spoke through body language and had a violent streak that could be seen as volatile and explosive. Humans were arrogant, loud and destructive with their technological advancements. Now in the present day cities had expanded, and wolves had taken to finding their niche in the human world.

There were still small communities of pure wolves out in the wild, further from prying eyes and more feral than most, but then there were some wolves that had happily taken to their new life amongst the skyscrapers and businessmen. They mixed well, became tolerant to each other and history unravelled to a peaceful time.

Humans still tended to find it easier to bond with other humans, loud and talkative, needing words to communicate and feel at ease. Wolves were more at ease amongst their own kind when it came to forming close relationships, mates being permanent were better found in other wolves and packs could grow and become stronger when they could communicate easier with body language. Though they worked together, ran society together and lived together there were still very clear boundaries between families and any human and wolf interactions. Each preferred their own kind for one reason or another but held no malice towards the other species. It worked for them all and the world turned a little easier.

Until the dead began walking.

Suddenly they were thrust together into a world of danger, depending on remaining close and having to deal with their differences to survive this new change. Dead humans consumed each other, fighting for flesh to feast on and infecting each other with whatever plague they were carrying. The wolves always shifted after being bit, the trauma of the change causing their bodies to react defensively and then they were reanimated, bounding down bloody streets and gnawing on the dead. Walkers and bounders, champing together on the flesh of their own, roaming the streets and flushing out anyone left living.

The cities were abandoned by anyone left alive, everyone fleeing for the safety of the less inhabited areas of countryside for hope of living. Hope began rotting away after the broadcasts stop, when there’s no glimpse of structure or a solution anywhere in sight and everyone was on their own, just trying to keep themselves and the ones they loved safe. The world was ravaged by the dead and the living were trying to survive in closer quarters than they’d had to endure before. The quarry near Atlanta is a decent enough spot to set up camp for the while and it seemed that once a decision had been made others followed the lead and set up with them.


	2. Chapter 2

When Atlanta had gone up in flames Shane had made his choice, bringing Lori, Carl and the others they’d made a connection with to the quarry. Naturally he’d taken the role of leader, his position in the police force had given others faith in him and he’d taken charge almost immediately. Setting up a perimeter he’d began listing tasks for everyone to be a part of, setting up a watch for danger, issuing someone to keep the fire going, others to gather water and a few to make a list of anything they needed. They follow easily, giving suggestions, gathering together and damn now he knows how Rick must have felt most of the time.

Dammit. He misses his best friend more than anything, but in a way he’s glad that Rick doesn’t have to see the world like this. It would be hard to endure, seeing Carl try and deal with seeing the dead rise and destroy their world, watching Lori cry almost every single day, pining for her mate in distress. He doesn’t know if Rick could have handled this world.

Growing up with his best friend being a wolf meant Shane had learnt how to deal with pack situations and wolf hierarchy everyday. The usual police training was decent enough but there were some things you just couldn’t learn from a book, you had to be a part of it yourself and Rick had taught him so much. He knew the basic pack structure, he knew about body language and keeping the pack in line and safe, he knew how wolves dealt with matters between themselves and when not to intervene. Right now though he had to try his best to be that Alpha for the wolves in their group as well as the leader for the humans.

Pitching up his own tent he moves inside to create a bed space for himself, sure it wouldn’t be the most comfortable of places but it would do for the moment. Hearing the zipper close shut he turns to find Lori watching him, standing tall but he can see the worry in her eyes. “What? What happened is Carl-“

When her lips crush against his he can’t say he didn’t want it, that he hadn’t always been craving her and wishing they were the same species and able to be together. His fingers tangle in her hair and she whimpers in a way that makes him groan in response, body surging forward to press against hers, to feel her there so alive and real. Lori pulls back enough to bare her neck to him, arched back submissively, willing to give herself fully to him without question. It’s intense, dangerous and like nothing he’s ever experienced, having a wolf submit to him fully and allow him that power over her.

Lori had always been different, not as open with her more feral side and rarely making any growls or whines like the other wolves he’d met. He knew she had a craving to be human, that she rarely ever shifted in order to maintain that façade for herself and the neighbours. She’d mated with Rick as she’d needed to, joining with him for life and feeling that connection he knew all mates had with each other. But he always knew there was something more, that she’d wanted this, to be human, treated human and loved as one as well.

Shane is deliberate to lay her upon the floor, kissing over her body gently but quickly, not biting, not owning but just adoring. She whines again, that noise he’s never heard Rick mention before and he’s quick to try and make her create it again. When Lori goes to turn, to present herself to him like a wolf he stops her, instead keeping her beneath him, facing him and watching him as he finally enters her.

She whimpers, biting on her lower lip and clutching at him, her nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt, clawing and holding him tightly as if he might disappear. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to give her, some semblance of how it was to be a human, to be given the chance to have sex and not just to mate. He caresses her thighs, stroking over her body and making sure to give her as much pleasure as he can in their quick tryst together. Shane knows they can’t take long, there’s no privacy anymore and besides Lori doesn’t seem to need that right now.

He makes sure to make her come first, watching as she pants, chest heaving, body shuddering and a small noise like a howl echoing from her lips. It’s enough to make him reach his climax, pressing in deeply and enjoying burying himself into her neck afterwards, smelling the faint trace of her perfume and the smell that is just pure Lori. Moaning a little he slips out of her, remaining close, letting his palm press against her sweat covered skin to keep contact as he cleans up. “Lori I-“

“You’ve been more of an Alpha to me today than Rick has been for the last few months.” She interrupts, sitting up and dusting herself off, running her fingers through her tangled hair before standing to settle her clothes back into their place. “I need you. We need you Shane.”

It’s not often that Lori shows her wolf side to him unless she’s shifted, he barely ever gets to see any hint of that in her, but right now the look in her eyes, the truth and trust that lies there makes him nod tightly, feeling assured and protective. He moves closer again, kissing her deeply, holding her against him tightly, letting his strength be felt through her whole body and smiling against her when she relaxes into it. “I need you both too.”


	3. Chapter 3

When Atlanta had gone up in flames Carl had panicked. His sensitive ears caught every single scream and howl echoing from the streets, he could almost feel the death as the scent of smoke filled the air and choked him. “Mom!” Instinct had kicked in and he’d run, ignoring the cries of that Carol lady and sprinting towards the woods where his Mom and Shane had disappeared to. Following her scent he fought against the wave of people screaming, running back towards their cars in panic, wolves howling in a mournful cry and leaving him whimpering in fright.

Desperate for his mother he’d shifted, running faster on four paws than he ever could on two legs, finding it easier to track her scent and dodge between the legs of the humans. Another wolf whines for him to turn around, trying to nudge him, her instinct driving her to protect any pups that she could from the horror of the world. Before she can grab his scruff he scrambles away, dirt smattering up his legs and tangling in his light brown fur as he howls for his mother.

He’s barely fallen silent before he hears her to his left and it’s not a few seconds before he’s being smothered in her white fur, nuzzled close into her chest and burying himself to hear her heartbeat. She instantly comforts him, licking behind his ear and whining lightly to try and soothe him.

Carl whimpers, placing himself firmly between her paws when he hears a human step beside them. His nose tells him it’s only Shane, and that he’s safe and he lets his tail fall between his legs, not worrying about any danger since Shane was there. His mother keeps him close for a while, just allowing him to be afraid as she grooms him, small licks of love and comfort from her until he’s feeling safe enough to shift back with her.

“Mom, what’re we going to do?” There’s still a whimper in his voice as he wraps his arms around her, keeping himself pressed against her front and not daring to let go.

“It’ll be okay Carl.” She kisses his head, stroking his hair and letting him cling to her even though he was twelve years old and far too big for that now.

“Come on.” Shane ushers them back up the hill, his hands warm on Carl’s lower back as he herds them back to the safety of the road. “It’s going to be fine buddy, I said I’m going to look after you and your mom didn’t I? And that’s what I’m going to do.” He nods as if telling himself that instead of just Carl, but the boy takes it as a promise and tries to act brave.

It’s chaos on the road and he feels so afraid at the uncertainty of it all, watching people panic, wolves howling for their pack and whining when there’s no Alpha to give them direction. He stays close to his mom, glued to her side and not willing to leave any time soon. Shane seems to know what he’s doing, where he heading and tells the other people they’ve been talking with to follow him, like they were all going on vacation with only one map.

His mom keeps stroking his hair as they drive, kissing his temple occasionally and just allowing him to give small whines of want when she pauses for a moment. Usually he’d be ashamed of that, acting like a pup when he’s meant to be acting more mature, but right now he doesn’t care anymore. Mom is scared too, he can see it in the way she shifted for him, she never did that unless she was really angry or feeling protective of him. Nuzzling closer he presses his ear to her chest to listen to her heartbeat and reassure himself of her presence.

The quarry is pitch black when they get there, several other cars, vans and even and RV following them up the path to park in a circle. Shane is commanding, getting out of the car and talking to the group, his voice is loud, firm and self assured, as if he did this sort of thing all the time. He sounded like an Alpha, just how his dad had used to he wanted Carl to do his chores.

Sniffling a little he holds his mom’s hand a little tighter, presses against her side and little firmer and hopes that Shane will protect them all like an Alpha should.


	4. Chapter 4

Fidgeting in his seat Daryl tries to stop the itching beneath his skin, attempting to focus on the road ahead of them and the familiar presence of Merle beside him. It’s tough but he knows right now he has to quell the urge to shift and remain in human form for the drive to make things easier for them. It wasn’t sane to try and walk the journey to Atlanta, he knew that, they had to take the truck, bring all the supplies they needed to survive. It was all fucking bullshit though, he knew they could fucking survive just fine, hunting deer, living out in the wild and just being free like he’d always wanted.

Beside him Merle isn’t tense but he sits in a determined way, straight backed and sure of himself as they continue to head to the city. Daryl knew there had been no point arguing, Merle had decided they were going to the rescue camp and so they were going, no matter how much he didn’t want to go to the city and be surrounded by that many humans. If he’s honest he’s completely relying on Merle’s instinct to keep them safe, and though his big brother has never steered him wrong before there’s still a lot of worry coursing through him at the sudden change.

Moving in his seat he watches out of the window, seeing blood smeared on the road and bodies littering the verge alongside. An anxious whine crawls up from his throat and he automatically tries to stop it, not wanting Merle to have to deal with even more shit after the events of the past few weeks. Rough fingers snag in his shirt, dragging him closer until his back is pressed against Merle’s side as he continues to drive, eyes not leaving the road.

It’s not fair that they have to leave home, somewhere he felt safe. Yeah the locals didn’t exactly approve of their family but for the most part they just left them alone to do as they pleased. The humans were scared of them, wary of how their eyes didn’t shift with the rest of them, always remaining bright and wolfish, allowing them to see better at night even in their human forms. The wolves didn’t understand why they found it so hard to stay shifted, Daryl especially could barely last a day in human form, feeling much more secure as his feral self.

He knows it’s because of their mother. Human and wolves being mated was still taboo, leaving he and Merle as neither a full human nor a complete wolf. They yelled half-breed across the street, the human kids said they were too violent, the wolf kids thought they smelt too human to be in a pack. So they’d become their own pack, just the two of them unwanted by the rest of the world and sticking together throughout everything thrown at them. Pressing back a little against Merle he chews on his thumb, a habit he’d taken up to take his mind off the itch to shift back beneath his skin.

The glow of taillights ahead of them stretching out for miles makes him sit up, able to smell smoke and ash amongst the constant new layer of death and rot. Beside him Merle tenses and he follows suit, unsure of the new threat and scanning their surroundings for answers. Humans are screaming, wolves are howling and the itch becomes more insistent as he becomes more uneasy. In the lane beside them, coming out of Atlanta is a trail of a few cars, a couple of trucks and an RV with a man in the lead car yelling for everyone to follow him. Glancing to Merle he waits for their plan, bracing himself against his brother when they drive the truck over the crumbling central reservation and begins following the trail of cars.

Daryl doesn’t need to voice his worry at the change of plan, Merle can sense it within him easily and presses a palm against the small of his back. It’s enough to settle him for now as they drive up the old dirt road, following the cars and halting on the edge of a circle as the guy that had been yelling gets out of the first car. As they climb out of the truck he sticks close to Merle, trying to ignore the scents of other wolves and humans being so close to them, waiting to mock and bite for their strange genetics. A low growl rumbles in Merle’s chest and he finds himself able to focus on the yelling guy’s words for a while.

He feels angry when the guys starts trying to boss them around, he’s not even a fucking wolf and he’s acting all Alpha. Merle chuckles, shaking his head and clearly debating whether he should put the human in his place now or later. But they don’t need to make enemies when the world is fucked, and besides Merle had said they needed to go where the supplies go. Right now this shoddy little camp was going to be home, no matter how much he didn’t like it.

Before the Alpha wannabe can order them to do anything Merle is heading towards the tree line, Daryl following on his heels eagerly when he notes the pace of his walk. Merle had a purpose and there was only one reason they’d leave the truck and head to the woods. As soon as Merle shifts he’s right behind him, feeling the relief of being in his feral form wash over him, shaking out his light red fur and feeling more comfortable already. Next to him Merle’s silver grey pelt reflects the moonlight, making him look almost ghostly as they begin to track, lowering their muzzles to the ground to find a scent worth following.

At the moment he doesn’t give a shit why they’re on a hunt and not helping out around the camp, all he can feel is the joy of running with his brother through the trees, snapping at the legs of a large doe and enjoying the bloodlust that he can almost taste. They bring her down easily, working perfectly as a team and ripping her throat out before she can give a cry of distress. Whining happily Daryl moves to lap at his brother’s muzzle, showing his joy over their success and his submission to eat second.

But Merle doesn’t go to eat, his sharp fangs don’t go to rip open the doe’s belly and feast on the organs inside of her. Instead her moves to clasp her neck tightly, lifting the top half of her body so only the rump is dragging across the ground when he begins heading back to camp. Hurrying to catch up Daryl cannot believe how smart his brother is sometimes, but that’s why he was the Alpha after all. Digging his own fangs into the flesh of the doe’s flank and helping Merle carry their meal back to camp.

Why give the humans and wolves at the quarry the chance to see them only as half-breeds when they could get them to see them as useful first? It was a brilliant idea and he feels his tail wag high alongside Merle’s as they carry their offerings back to the camp.


	5. Chapter 5

Leaving Morgan and Dwayne behind, Rick knows that he’s done the right thing in helping them with supplies and the radio. It’s the least he could do, if it weren’t for the other man, he would be dead by now. Sighing when the police car finally sputters its last he leaves it where it is, shouldering the gun bag and slipping Lori and Carl’s picture into the pocket on the side. He knew they were out there, they had to be in Atlanta, safe and waiting for him with the family albums and Carl’s comic books.

The air is thick with the scent of death as he walks, a constant reminder of what could be lurking out there ready to pounce at any moment. It was a long walk to Atlanta and there was no way he was going to get there before nightfall if he kept up this pace. Setting the gun bag on the ground he makes sure it’s fully secured to the harness he favours before settling it onto his back. Shifting after so long feels strange, his paws are unsteady for a moment and his side is still tender but he’d definitely be a lot faster this way. Thanking Shane for convincing him to get the harness even when he hated to shift on duty, Rick begins heading out over the fields to Atlanta, gun bag secure on his bag as he runs.

Crossing fields and fences he enjoys the run, feeling his more feral side enjoy the freedom to be like this after so long being trapped beneath the police uniform. Not that he didn’t like his job, he took pride at being able to be a leader to both wolves and human in his role, but it seemed as if he never really got the time to be free often. The gun bag jostles about a little but nothing falls out thank God and the sun is far from setting when he reaches the sun-heated tarmac of the road to Atlanta.

He settles himself to a more relaxed pace, panting in the intense heat and keeping an ear out for danger as he moves past the car-clogged road. It’s eerie to see it so quiet and as he approaches the outskirts he begins wondering why there’s no barriers set up, no army checkpoints or personnel to direct him. Maybe it was further inside the city, kept safe between the towering buildings and away from the main roads. He’s careful to avoid the walkers if he can, skirting away from the bounders and hoping to slip into the safe zone without having to waste any ammo or take them down whilst feral.

The sudden noise above him makes him look up, tail high, ears pricked and looking for answers and hope. It’s a helicopter, an army one by the looks of it and flying overhead. Howling loudly he sprints after it, hoping it will hear him or at least see the mass of brown fur running down the streets of Atlanta and pause to see what it was. Watching the chopper he rounds a corner, almost falling over his own paws when he comes face to face with hundreds of walkers and bounders groaning and whining together. Immediately he retreats, heading down a side street, getting blocked off and heading for another, finding himself surrounded and his panic increasing.

The bounders are quicker than the walkers, drooling from half chewed muzzles, eyes void of the usual wolf gold and instead a misty grey of death covering them. They snarl and bite, snapping at him hungrily as they give chase until he’s forced to shift, grabbing at the gun bag and firing at as many of them as he can. One jumps up, forcing him to the ground and digging its fangs into the bag instead of his shoulder. Quickly he unbuckles the harness, scrambling beneath the underside of a tank and firing at the heads of those clawing at his feet.

It’s hopeless. He’d gotten this far and now he was trapped, the dead surrounding him and crawling every closer with every second. Rick despairs, readying his gun, preparing himself to not give them the satisfaction of turning him into one of them. Uttering one last apology to his mate and his pup he gasps and quickly pulls himself up into the tank through the hatch he’d suddenly found. Locking it tightly he finds himself trapped even more, and half deaf after taking out the undead soldier that remained within. It looked hopeless. Here he was locked in a tank, surrounded by walkers and bounder with nothing but a half empty magazine and a grenade. There was no hope.

“Hey, you, dumbass. You in the tank. Cosy in there?”


	6. Chapter 6

The run from the tank, the climb up the building and the ensuing terror and panic that runs through him leaves him damned near panting when they’re safe in the department store. Well as safe as they could be right now. Bounders and walkers press against the glass, snarling and pawing, desperate for their blood and flesh, leaving Rick surrounded by new faces and a lot of questions. He can smell what they are, two other wolves and three humans, each one as scared as the next and looking to him as if he’d practically signed their death warrant. Immediately his hackles are up and despite the young man having saved his life, he feels on edge and ready to defend himself if necessary.

“You’ve killed us. You’ve killed us all.” One of the women says, she’s blonde, holding a gun with the safety on in his direction, clearly a wolf on edge. She’d be snarling if she didn’t seem to restrain herself so much. He can almost taste the tension between them as he growls in response, daring her to push further, to really let him take her down like an Alpha.

The others call for her to back down and when she does Rick steps forward, immediately more relaxed and ready to listen to these people. He can see her point, they may all be alive but they’re all trapped and with no way of sneaking past the massive hoard of danger that are clawing at the glass. There’s a hint of him that feels responsible, that now he’s endangered them he needs to help them, after all it was due to the kid that he was still alive. Just as he’s about to try and calm them down and get some semblance of who these people were and how they could help, a gun shot rings out from above them, loud and echoing around the streets outside.

“Dixon!”

It’s chaos on the roof. A rifle is set on the edge, a large grey wolf is snarling loudly and stood over one of the men from downstairs. Beside them everyone’s panicking, worried and clinging to the man, holding him, frightened and looking to the snarling wolf in fear. Rick can see the alpha behaviour, how the wolf is tense, fur on end and looking as if he’d be willing to severely hurt one of the others to defend his position. It’s disgusting, there’s no one challenging him, he’s not being threatened and yet he’s acting like he’s almost feral.

Snarling loudly Rick darts forward, shifting in a second and diving on top of the feral wolf, snapping and snarling, teeth sharp and digging into fur, ripping and tearing to try and protect the humans beside him. He doesn’t know why none of the other wolfs have shifted to help, but it’s not like he can think about that right now, all his training is coming forward in the fight. The other wolf fights dirty, grabbing at his ears, clawing at his chest and biting for his lower spine, a move delivered to try and injure his spine and paralyse him if lucky. He’s dealt with this kind of wolf before and he has to end this quickly.

Fur flies, there’s blood in his fur and Rick’s quick to head butt the grey wolf, biting at his ears and yanking his head down, moving to clasp his jaws about the feral one’s neck, squeezing in a way that feels too good to think about and pressing down on him. Hooking out the paws of the opposition, he presses him down onto his back, pinning him, standing over him and keeping him down with a savage growl.

It takes a few shakes for the grey wolf to submit properly, to give a small whine and let Rick feel safe enough to relax his jaws and just stand over him. He stays in place for a few moments, ensuring his safety and the safety of those around him. Snorting in derision he shifts back, not waiting a second to grab his cuffs and slip them around the feral’s leg, knowing that the police issue cuffs were made to transition for either wolf or human limbs. Slipping the other onto a pipe, he steps back, trying not to take pleasure in the feeling of the other wolf submissive beneath him, snapping at the cuff, yanking himself back and forth, trying to get himself free.

When he finally shifts back Rick snorts down to him, barely wanting to give the man the respect of his attention. As far as he was concerned, this feral was beneath him and should be pleased he hadn’t torn his throat out. “Who the fuck are you?” The man snarls, yanking his arm, daring to challenge Rick and refuse to submit with some grace.

“Officer friendly.” He growls back, turning his back on the challenge, showing his lack of concern for his outburst. Moving back to the others he nods to the injured man, it’s nothing more than a beating, he’ll recover and it was better than a bite. “We need to find a way out of here. Anyone got any ideas? Weak spots in the building? Side exits? Anywhere the hoards are the thinnest?”

The other five fall in line, the two wolves, the blonde and the Hispanic man automatically stepping forward, willing to follow his lead without question. The humans still seem a bit hesitant, but right now they don’t have much of a choice and Rick is relieved when Jacqui comes up with a viable plan. “Sewers. Old buildings like this used to have water flow pipes directly into the sewers, we could find a way underground to get by them.”

Nodding in agreement of the plan he leads them downstairs, taking the head of the pack and beginning downstairs, leaving the still yelling feral on the roof. This isn’t exactly what he’d had planned for the day, but at least this was something he knew. Leading a pack, keeping others safe and ensuring that everyone fell in line and did their duty. This was something he could do, something he always did and was safe to do when the world was going to hell.

Lori had always found it hard, to accept that part of herself and that he found it natural to lead. She’d fought with him over it, not wanting to bring Carl up like that, and she always tried to hide him from the more violent side of his work. After a while he stopped telling her about it, kept the fights and scuffles to himself. He’d wash the blood off his jaws in the station showers, make sure to keep the snarls to himself and stayed shifted as human around her. It sometimes felt that she was ashamed of them, that she’d wished to be more human and that there wasn’t a wolf lurking inside of her wanting to get out.

In times like this though he felt alive, getting to lead others, give commands and it’s almost as if he can feel the beast inside of him calming at the motion. The pipe plan falls through, but he refuses to let these people down and finds an alternate. It’s dangerous, it’s foolish but damn if the wolf side of him doesn’t thrive on the excitement of the danger and the thrill of success when they’re free, in the van and heading in the direction of survival.

His mind is full of excitement, wanting to howl in elation, feeling the happiness of those in the air around him. The van is full of heavy breathing, panting bodies, the sheer relief of being alive and one huge question hanging over all their heads when Rick does a head count.

“I dropped the damn key.”


	7. Chapter 7

Sophia doesn’t understand why her father is so protective of her. She knows he’s only worried for her, and though she hates every single second that he holds her close, fingers bruising her arm every time some of the group come close to her. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that he only worries about her around the wolves.

It doesn’t make any sense, she can’t see any reason for it. The only thing about them that was different was sometimes they’d be wolves, that was it. To be honest she thought it was pretty cool to be able to do that, to get to shift and growl ,to be able to be strong and protect themselves and those they love so easily. But her father hates them. He calls them animals, votes for them to be given less rights than humans and made sure that she was homeschooled to be away from them.

The kids here are nice enough, and the only ones here were all wolves, so she either got to hang around with them, or had to try and look interested around the adults. She usually waits until her father is busy, reading his magazines or drinking through the last of his beer and smoking to get away, so she can spend time with them. They’re fun to be with and she never really got to spend time with kids her own age.

Carl is pretty fun, he knows all the cool things that she’s never been taught, like adding mentos to soda made it fizz like crazy, he knows loads of different card games she’s never heard of and he knows loads of games from school to teach her. The Morales kids are nice too, Eliza lets her play with her dolls and even has a pot of nail varnish that they paint each other’s toenails bright pink with. Louis is a bit annoying, but he doesn’t mean to be, he’s just very excitable and talks really fast so she can’t keep up.

Her father would always call wolves dangerous, but she just can’t see it. The other kids don’t shift too often, the Morales siblings usually only do so when they’re squabbling over something or when their mother coddles them. Sometimes she wants to feel their fur, theirs looks more shiny than others, and though she knows it’s rude to do so without permission, sometimes she wants to stroke their fur. They’re a light silver in colour, Eliza’s is paler, almost white in some lights like their mother’s whereas Louis’ is more like his father’s.

She’s only seen Carl shift once, and even then she only got a glimpse of light brown fur whipping away through the grass until he was out of sight. He never seemed to want to shift, as if it was weak or something when she knew it was a sign of his strength. But she supposes he must get it from his mother and she knows after a little angry explanation from Carl that Shane was not his father and not a wolf.

The adult wolves within their group are nice enough, they don’t make much of a fuss being so close to humans and though she knows they can hear her father’s rants, they’re never growled at them for it. Mom told her to stay away, she’d steer her closer to the humans in their group with a glance to her father and an almost longing look towards Lori, Amy and the other women that mingled so easily. It’s just after having spent so long without any knowledge or interactions with wolves, she finds herself fascinated with them.

Jim is very quiet, his pelt is dark with grey around the muzzle and he always looks so bedraggled. It took a while for him to even shift into his human form around them, before he’d skulked around the edge of the group, keeping to the shadows and not interacting with them at all. Dale had been the one to ease him into talking to them, beginning by just holding a one sided conversation with him still in wolf form. It had taken time, but she figured they had as much time as they wanted now.

When he’d finally shifted back, she’d found him to be a little frightening and bedraggled. He was unkept, his eyes kept darting back and forth, and he always seemed on edge. Though she was meant to be asleep, she had heard him and Dale talking one night whilst on watch on the RV roof. She had heard Jim speak with tears in his voice, almost a howl in his words as he explained how he’d only escaped from death because the dead had been feeding on his family. His wife and children had tried to fight them, one last stand, Jim not believing the news of the dead coming back until he’d been faced with it himself. She’d heard of how he’d bolted, fear overcoming his love for his family and how he’d run over fields to safety to the sound of their dying howls.

Sophia wasn’t sure how he’d managed that. She couldn’t dream of leaving her mom behind, and especially if she would be able to hear that. That night she’d squirmed in beside her mother, buried her face in her neck and clung to her as if she was five years old again.

If wolves were meant to be so dangerous then surely Jim would not have let the dead hurt his family? Pack was meant to be the most important thing, wolves were meant to kill and defend their own against anything that would try to hurt them. Carl told her about how his dad had once snapped and growled at another wolf for just getting too close to him when he was younger.

Amy and Andrea really didn’t seem like wolves at all. They stayed in the RV with Dale, and giggled and smiled like sisters do. They’d plait each other’s hair, talk with Lori and the other women, try to talk to her mom, and look so feminine and dainty that she could barely imagine them as dangerous beasts. Andrea boasted about her aggressiveness in the courtroom, how being a wolf would help in cases and let her intimidate and act in control. Amy never seemed to act wolfish at all. She was so sweet and nice, smiling nicely and giving her half of her own candy bar when she’d noticed her glance at it.

But the Dixon brothers. Well she supposed those were the kind of wolves that her father tried to warn her about. They didn’t seem to shift human very much, preferring to remain wolf as they milled about the camp, scoffing and not interacting very much with anyone. The older brother, Merle, shifted more than Daryl though, and when he did he’d walk around like he owned the place, still very wolf even when on two legs. She did avoid him, and for once in her life she thought maybe her father was right about something.

The younger one was nearly always wolf. She’d only seen him shift human a couple of times, and only ever when his brother was around and acting more cocky than usual. He’d trot about their side of the camp, crunching on the bones of anything he’d caught with his muzzle almost always smeared in blood, appearing from the shadows of the woods and making her jump at his sudden appearance. Daryl was always so quiet, and he really didn’t seem to like any of them very much aside from his brother.

However, though he was quiet and looked harmless, there were moments that Sophia was afraid of him. He and Merle had been lying beside each other next to the fire one evening, as far as she could see they weren’t doing much more than enjoying each other’s company. Then in an instant they’d been fighting. Biting and snarling, jumping all over each other with growls interspersed with yelps and whimpers until Daryl was pinned to the ground with his brother all but lying on top of him. The noises had been terrifying, she’d thought one of them was going to die it had been so violent and she’d shrunk back into her mom’s arms and been almost grateful when her father had placed a hand on his gun.

She remembers Shane yelling, standing over them with anger in his eyes and a stance like when Merle was being cocky around the camp. He doesn’t have to say anything, just hold his position until Merle huffed loudly, giving a bite to Daryl’s ear before trotting off, his brother quickly following with his head down and tail between his legs. Sophia had peeked out as they’d walked away, watching them both go to the woods for a late night hunt. For a moment she’d met the reflection of Daryl’s eyes in the dark and for one second she thought maybe she knew how he felt. Maybe wolves weren’t quite as different and dangerous as her father had said.

But then he’d broken eye contact and bolted away to the woods and she remembered that really she knew nothing about wolves at all.


	8. Chapter 8

Hunting was something that Daryl had always enjoyed ever since he was a pup. Being able to be free in the woods, surrounded by no humans and nothing but the possibility of a good meal was the epitome of perfection for him. He preferred to have Merle beside him, but he was more than capable of hunting by himself and besides Merle had gone off to help with the run to Atlanta. It was something he could never do, cities were just too much to handle for him, too many people surrounding him and staring, spitting curses and ready to kill the half breed for even looking their way.

Chasing the wounded deer back towards camp he figures Merle knows best as usual, his Alpha knew how to get them in with the group, safe enough to be accepted and when they least suspected it they would ransack the place. Panting happily he jumps up the last ridge, blood smearing his jaws from each bite he’d landed on the deer’s rump. Merle had sent him out for a hunt, and Daryl knew some of the idea of sending him out was to get him looking more useful and giving more to the group.

He couldn’t help that he didn’t feel comfortable around them all, other people just made him feel on edge. A lifetime of avoiding crowds didn’t exactly make this easy and it was taking a while to get used to. Merle had found it easy enough, flirting badly with the women, boasting to the men and even staying in his human skin longer than Daryl had seen in a while. He was trying, he really was, but every time he tried to stay shifted his skin itched something awful, making him feel queasy and on edge since everyone seemed to keep staring at him. Shaking himself free of any twigs and mud that had caught in his fur he braces himself to interact with the group, to bring them food and be a part of this.

The air is thick with excitement, he can smell human blood from a fresh wound, gunpowder clung to someone’s clothing and all of it was coated with the stench of the dead over everything. Growling low he breaks through the bushes to the group’s clearing,  tail waving high when he finds his deer sprawled on the dirt. The others seem to have already found it, each of them staring at him with a strange look as he pads closer. When the scent of the walker reaches him, mixed with the scent of the deer, Daryl moves forward to find a large bite mark taken out of the deer’s neck.

Snarling loudly he places a paw on the deer’s hide, ears pricking forward and fur bristling as his kill is lost to infection. Pacing back and forth a little he paws at the wound, finding Shane’s foot reaching out to nudge him away with a shake of his head. “I would not risk that. We don’t know how easily it could spread.”

Snorting in anger he tries to relax, sloping away from the deer and wondering if he should go back and try to find something else for them all. When the downed walker’s head starts snapping at the air all of the anger rushes back and in a second he crunches his jaws over the creature’s head, digging in his sharp fangs to pierce the brain and put it down for good. Tossing it aside he snorts into the dust, trying to get the foul taste from his mouth by champing down some grass. The group continues talking around him and when he notes Andrea and Amy looking disgusted with him he figures the rest of the group must be back.

Well at least Merle can’t say he didn’t try to help out. Ignoring the others he heads back to the main camp, pausing to take in the scent of the newcomer they’ve brought back. Wolf, new, healing, and by the scent of it a strong Alpha, the sheriff’s uniform just makes it all the more clear. Yet another city wolf that was going to be a problem to he and Merle.

Howling lightly he calls for Merle to move his ass, trotting through the camp and heading for where he’s probably somewhere licking his wounds. He knows his brother’s scent and right now it’s hard to work out why he can only smell his blood and not the full on scent of Merle. Something is wrong, everyone is looking at him and the new wolf is looking uneasy, on edge and Shane is standing a bit taller, trying to look more intimidating. Immediately he’s bracing himself, by setting his paws deeper on the ground and squaring his shoulders to look more threatening.

“Daryl come on over, we need to talk to you about something.” Shane sounds serious and he gets that same look in his eyes that says he’s trying to be Alpha, and making some kind of attempt to posture and keep him under control.

“This would be easier if you shifted.” The newcomer adds, taking a step closer and Daryl counters by taking half a step back. “I’m Rick.” New wolf adds, nodding his head in greeting and moving his body lower, crouching to meet his level to seem friendly and less threatening. It doesn’t work and Daryl watches him all the more warily. There’s no way he’s shifting into a more vulnerable form, not when Merle was not here and these people were all looking at him like that.

Rick, wipes at his mouth, glancing back to Shane before continuing, looking at him and keeping his voice at a level Daryl knows is meant to sound comforting. “Daryl there was a problem in Atlanta. Your brother Merle he got out of hand, started putting the rest of us in danger, we had to restrain him and he got left behind.”

The words burn deep inside of him, and in a second he’s pacing, whimpers falling from his throat as he panics. Merle wasn’t here, Merle wasn’t here and he was alone with these people and wolves and surrounded. The anxiety mounts and he can’t stop pacing, turning in circles, pawing at the dirt with his tail quivering between his legs as it all mounts up inside of him.

“We don’t know if he’s dead Daryl. He was handcuffed to a roof, and the key got lost so we couldn’t get him free in time to get away.” Rick continues, looking sorry, and Daryl can smell the guilt on him, how he knows it’s his fault that his brother is out there alone, chained to a roof and surrounded by those things. He could die, Merle could be dead for all he knew and it was all these people’s fault! They hated them! This was a plot, just because they were half-breeds these wolves and humans couldn’t handle it, they had trapped Merle on purpose, chained him like a dog and left him to die.

Daryl bolts forward, dust shifting beneath his paws as he dives at the new officer, snarling and snapping at him, rage taking over and controlling him as he attacked. Each growl is meant fully, he wants to kill this wolf for what he’s done and feel the flesh of his throat be crushed beneath his fangs. Digging in his claws he tries to pin the still human shaped wolf, using his greater bulk to his advantage, ignoring the screams and yells around him and just focussing on doing what was right.

A fist against his ribs from Rick catches him off guard and in the middle of panting for air he’s tackled to the floor by Shane’s heavy weight. He bucks, snarling, growling, howling and clawing at the ground to try and get free, to not be trapped and put down like they had with Merle in Atlanta. Unfortunately these officers had been trained properly, they knew how to deal with restraining wolves and Daryl felt as weak as anything when they had him pinned on his back, Shane’s hands clamped around his muzzle and Rick’s pinning down his neck.

It’s a risky move, one that takes a lot of courage to get so close to a wolf and dare to pin them. Whining submissively Daryl can’t help his instincts, tucking in his tail and baring himself more to their aggressive and dominant behaviour. He feels sick as Rick continues talking, not even shifted and being more Alpha wolf than Daryl had managed in his life. “I wanted to have a calm conversation about this. We don’t know if your brother is dead, but we did what had to be done. He was dangerous, threatening all of us and risking our lives.”

Stilling beneath them Daryl tucks his tail tighter nervously, wondering if they were going to just cut his throat here and now to have done with the stupid half breeds that had tried to be a part of their group. “If we let you up you behave you hear?” Shane tells him, no question in his voice but more of a threat. Daryl whimpers in response and as soon as he’s free he’s back on his feet, head lowered and watching them from across the camp as they continued.

“We’re going back to Atlanta today. To get my gun bag I left behind, and to try and help Merle. It’ll be dangerous, but it’s what we’re going to do.” Rick nods to him and despite all of his anger still bubbling beneath the surface, Daryl can feel that willingness to listen to a more dominant wolf inside of him. It’s sick, this man has put Merle’s life in danger and yet his feral side wants to do as he says and follow him already.

A few of the others volunteer to come too, T-Dog and Glenn, they speak through their plans and make it clear they’re taking the box van back to the city. Daryl has no time to listen to this shit, everyone’s arguing, Shane has the nerve to belittle Merle and he takes a snap at his heels on his way to the van. Hopping into the back he waits for them all, growing more and more impatient, pacing back and forth, growling lightly as they take too damned long.

His senses tell him information from the scents in the camp that he doesn’t care about. Andrea and Amy, the city dogs that pretend to understand their feral sides are full of relief and family strength. Something he understands and is terrified of losing. Shane, Lori and the kid smell of happiness and excitement, and a slight undertone of panic in the adults. He’d known that Shane and Lori were not mates, their species was clue enough but their relationship just stank of guilt and deceit. Now this Rick had appeared and the link between himself and Lori is strong but strained.

Daryl knows there are no lies between wolves, especially not family or mates. Rick knows, if he can’t smell it he’s stupid, and Daryl has to wonder why he hasn’t torn out Shane’s throat yet. But here he is watching T-Dog shuffle over to the van with Glenn beside him, the Asian kid skirts around him, always skittish whenever he’s growling. T-Dog doesn’t show fear and doesn’t smell of it, but Daryl can sense his wariness and the guilt from what happened to Merle. Huffing to himself he paces even more when T-Dog climbs in the back with him, clutching his weapon and avoiding looking at him.

Barking loudly he tries to catch Rick’s attention from his mate, not giving a fuck if they’ve got a lot to talk about, Merle was far more important than who was mounting who. When the other wolf ignores him he snarls and climbs over the Asian kid to the front, ignoring the sound of his frantic heartbeat in his ears and pressing his paw hard on the horn. It does the trick and Rick gets in the driver’s seat, allowing him to climb in the back and lay opposite T-Dog in the box. Despite the other man’s attempts to ignore him Daryl continues staring, watching him and making sure to bare his fangs every so often in a silent threat.

He’d better hope that Merle was alive.


	9. Chapter 9

Andrea didn’t shift very much anymore. When she had been younger and more wild in her teenage years, she’d spent a lot of time free in the woods, chasing others her age and enjoying the freedom of tasting the world at rest. It had been years since she had shifted, her lifestyle in the city didn’t necessarily prevent it, but she had chosen to remain professional at all times.

Being a wolf brought a lot of assumptions with it, a lot of her kind preferred more physical work, and in general wolves had a lower level of education. Personally she blamed the hormones, when maturing wolves found themselves saturated with blood lust and mating hormones it was harder to concentrate on other things. She had strived through, breaking past her more difficult years and focussing on her education, remaining in human form and getting her excitement in other ways. Winning a case, getting a good deal and being able to represent herself as strong as she was in the courtroom was almost as good as a successful hunt.

Though she hadn’t shifted in years everyone in her life knew she was a wolf. Her presence oozed it when she walked, every step was purposefully made, every glare was full of power and in the courtroom that only worked in her favour. It wasn’t exactly dirty to play life that way, but she had an edge on humans in her position and she wasn’t going to give that up if she didn’t have to.

Things had gotten more difficult since the outbreak, with nothing else to focus on her want to shift had been enhanced and though Amy and her both had the ability to do so, there was something holding them back. Amy had always been so sweet, demure and gentle whenever she went hunting with their father. Releasing anything they didn’t need to eat, preferring to simply howl herself hoarse in pleasure and run through the fields and woodland. In contrast, she had enjoyed the kill and sometimes it had frightened her how much pleasure it had given her. Her father had encouraged her, tried to help her through the urges and want to crunch her jaws on an innocent animal and squeeze its life from it. It had been difficult and when she’d focussed on education, they’d changed to fishing. It hadn’t quite been the same, but it was a more acceptable way of getting her kicks.

She’d tried so hard to stay positive throughout the danger surrounding them now, keeping Amy close, staying strong and trying to give that same presence she had in the courtroom around the camp. But it was all a lie, a charade she threw on to keep others way and maintain some semblance of control over a situation that was completely out of her hands. Each day it was harder not to shift and let instinct take over, to protect their little pack of two with her fangs and claws.

Now everything had fallen to pieces inside of herself and she had lost her want to control herself any longer.

Digging her claws into the ground she howls to the sky, ears pinned back, tail held low and pain echoing from her lungs. Amy was dead. Lost to her forevermore and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Blood covered her pale blonde fur, matting it together, smearing over her paws and muzzle from where she’d try to nudge some life back into her. Her sister was dead, her pack mate was no more and the empty gap in her life from not shifting for so long cracked further apart until she felt shattered.

Behind her the humans are talking, some pacing, others holding weapons and acting threatening towards her sister’s body. She knows what needs to be done, but the thought of allowing any of them near Amy makes her want to crush their necks between her teeth. Daryl is circling her, tongue lolling from his bloodstained mouth and watching constantly, waiting for a moment to strike. She won’t allow it and takes a second to snarl in his direction, making him back off with his tail between his legs and slope off to deal with the rest of their dead.

Amy had always been so beautiful. Her fur was the same colour as her hair, light and soft, it almost felt as if she had never lost her puppy coat at all. Andrea remembers the two of them playing when they were younger, rolling about in the grass and despite the age difference she had tried so hard to be there whenever Amy had needed her. This trip had been to develop that now they were older, give them new memories together to think about and enjoy parts of their human form that weren’t all about control and strength.

Her cry of pain echoes across the quarry and though she knows walkers might hear it, she just didn’t care anymore. Lying beside her sister she places a paw on her side, and rests her head beneath her neck, nuzzling at the soft skin there and immersing herself in the scent of family, love and home. It hurts to have the underlying scent of death and blood beneath it all and she knows she’s whining in pain the whole night long.

For a while she loses herself, just praying, hoping and wishing for some way to turn back time and fix this mess.

Rick approaches, and she doesn’t even have to turn around to know he’s not going to offer condolences. The fur on the back of her neck and hackles raise, a low growl bubbling up in her throat until she spins to snap at him, not caring that she looks and feels like nothing more than an animal, and watching as Rick backs off with a look of worry on his face. There’s no need for them to be here, not right now, she doesn’t need any of them, the only person she needed was Amy, and now she was gone.

It burns within her, causing a chasm of pain in her chest and making her quiver at the feeling. Andrea feels lost, like the reason for trying so hard all this time had been snuffed out in a second of stupid choices. If only she’d not let Amy take another drink, if only she’d found some toilet paper on the run, if only they’d never gone on this stupid trip together. It hurt, it hurt more than anything else in the world.

She can smell Dale coming her way and though she bristles a little, she also knows this man. The three of them had made a small pack of their own and though Dale isn’t a wolf, there had been a connection there, something to latch onto to get through this chaos of the world ending. They had managed to give Dale something to connect to after his wife’s passing, and Dale in turn had been the father figure they had possibly lost due to the walkers. He still feels safe, even now at her most vulnerable and when he settles beside her, she doesn’t growl at him as she would with others.

“I came to pay my respects.” He keeps his voice low and when he speaks and she appreciates it. Dale places a hand to Amy’s shoulder, speaking to her gently whilst placing his free hand on Andrea’s own head, petting her fur gently and even though she’s not a dog, she appreciate the soft touch right now. For a moment everything is safe, and though Amy is gone, a small spark of something blooms in the gap within herself. It’s still painful, but Dale’s fingers comb behind her ears, and for just a glimmer of a second she doesn’t need to snarl for everyone to stay away.

Time passes, Dale leaves and when she can breathe easy again there’s a twitch beneath her. She knew this would happen, but she’s just not prepared. Everything she’d ever wanted to say to Amy swirls through her head, mixing with emotions and making her whine as she licks at Amy’s neck gently. Her sister claws at her and when she looks into her eyes, Amy isn’t there. It hurts so much to say goodbye, so she doesn’t. She just closes her eyes, opens her jaws and ends it all.

It’s the first time she’s shifted in years and the first time she hasn’t enjoyed a kill. Andrea howls again.


	10. Chapter 10

Shane doesn’t have time for all this bullshit. They’re had a fight over the choice between the CDC and Fort Benning, he thought he’d made a good enough case for them all to side with him, but they were frantic, desperate for the hope of a cure. He himself doesn’t waste his time with dreams and wishes, instead just agrees to go with the rest of the group and see where it took him.

The Morales family are leaving, giving hugs and kisses to everyone, resting their foreheads against others in a wolf symbol of affection, the children are whining, but their parents are set on their choice. They were going to take their chances in the wild, shifted and heading for their family, their extended pack in Birmingham where they prayed for the safety of numbers. Shane thinks it’s foolish, there’s no way they could survive even if they were wolves. The woods were just as dangerous for all of them and the bounders were fast when they wanted to be. But it’s not his place to say and with a wish for good luck, they shift, moving to the clearing of their camp and moving deeper into the woods.

The kids are crying, upset at losing their friends and something inside of him breaks when Carl howls a little in pain, Rick moving to run a hand through his son’s hair. It’s been decided on the CDC, Jim is bit and no one is willing to give up on him. Well, the majority at least.

He takes his time packing everything away, making sure all of their supplies are well kept and easy to grab, provisions kept aside in hand luggage and ready to be grabbed just in case. He has enough there for the Grimes family and himself, as much as he likes these other people, that’s enough for him. The RV is being filled with whatever they can salvage, the large vehicle giving them all the space to keep Jim well rested and keep their belongings together.

It’s the last scan of the camp and it’s fallen to he and Rick to scout around for anything left, glancing up to the graves on the hill and the charred corpses of walkers smouldering in the distance. They’d had a good thing here, and one moment of peace had been destroyed in moments. He’s angry at them all for it happening, but not as angry as he was at himself.

Sure Carl and Lori were safe, but so many had died because he hadn’t managed to save them. He’s angry at Rick for leaving them, he’s angry at Dixon for leaving when he could have heard the walkers long before they approached, and he’s even more frustrated that Andrea had been so helpless to help after Amy went down. Shane was no stranger to grief, he’d been damn near numb when Rick had gone down, but they needed to fight in this world and there was no time to mourn if you could help it.

Stepping over to where Andrea sits, still in wolf form and not looking to be shifting anytime soon, he gives a sighs, never enjoying speaking without the hope of actually answers. She doesn’t look to him, her gaze focussed on the grave that sits on the hill, a shoddy cross marking Amy’s grave poorly. It’s not enough but they can’t do much more. Her paws are caked in dirt where she’d dug the grave herself, whining and howling as they’d moved Amy to rest properly. It had been heartbreaking but it had to be done.

“We’re ready.” He simply says, hoping she knows he’s asking her to move, to manage to quell the pain for just a moment, for them, and to keep moving. Shane remembers wanting the world to stop when Rick had gone down, to have everything go back and be fixed, if only he’d done something different or kept Rick down or five hundred other scenarios where he would have taken the bullet for him. “Andrea, we need to move.”

The wolf still doesn’t acknowledge him, silently she stands, turning away from the grave and moving to the RV, her eyes are dull, her tail low and Shane wonders if she feels anything at all as she lopes into the vehicle. He tries to hope for answers at the CDC but heading that far into town is practically suicide, but he’d made his protests and been shut down, so they’d just have to play it out now.

Rick is still picking up the last few remnants of supplies and checking for anything useful, double and triple checking, falling into the role of leader seamlessly after only being awake a week. His best friend is there beside him and that’s all that mattered, whatever this situation would bring, they’d face it together. Running his fingers through his hair he gazes up at their last job, the lone wolf sitting on the path and looking out to Atlanta.

They’d managed to get Daryl to stop howling fortunately, not wanting to draw any more walkers to them if they could help it, and the wolf’s howling for his brother was far too loud. After the attack Daryl had been angry, snarling and champing at any downed walker he could, crushing skulls between his fangs and ripping them apart. Shane wondered if he even knew how dangerous he looked when he did that.

Stepping over to Daryl he gives another sigh, willing to use all his training to get this to go his way. Working with Rick meant he knew how to communicate with wolves better than others and he knew one of the best ways to avoid confrontation was to set the rules immediately. The relationship between himself and Daryl was still forming, but their fights and scuffles had given him a semblance of authority over the wolf and he intended to use that.

He stands beside the wolf, using his height to his advantage and speaking firmly. “We’re leaving now.” It’s nothing more than a statement, but he can see the way Daryl’s ears flick towards him, listening intently. “Your brother’s bike is packed up on your truck. If you’re not willing to shift and drive it then T-Dog can.”

Daryl snarls, his claws digging into the dirt beneath him before he stands, baring teeth and snapping at Shane for even suggesting such a thing. Shane’s been here before, outside bars with drunken wolves vying for position and causing chaos, so he doesn’t back down. Making sure not to seem cautious he simply steps closer to Daryl, not intimidated by the snarling or bared teeth, folding his arms in a no nonsense manner and glaring down to him.

The wolf seems on edge at that, backing up a little and his tail lowering a few inches, still growling, but not so tense. Daryl paces back and forth, agitated, and looking uncomfortable at Shane’s position and clearly wondering whether a challenge would be worth it. He doesn’t want to give him that option, it wouldn’t help anyone to have that sort of issue right now so he steps closer again, watching as Daryl backs away another step and lowers his head slightly.

He can feel Rick to the side of him, a comforting presence in his shifted form, brown fur bristled a little and ears pricked forward attentively. They’ve been friends long enough for him to feel no discomfort at being around a wolf, Rick was just Rick, no matter which skin he wore at the time. Daryl takes a final snap at them, one last attempt at getting his own way and Shane can’t help but smirk as Rick snaps back with a snarl, tail high, stood tall and moving forward with Shane at his shoulder as his backup.

For a moment it’s just like old times, and even if Rick never liked shifting on duty, Shane knew him and knew this role as second in command. He’d been leading the group just fine before Rick got here, but damned it felt good to be beside him again. Daryl doesn’t submit entirely, he stops growling and averts his gaze, but there’s no rolling over or submissive licking.

Instead Shane is surprised when he shifts into his human form, one so rarely seen around camp. Daryl is dirty, a scowl on his face and bad attitude in his eyes as he stalks past, not growling but just this side of cocky enough for Rick to give a small growl as he shifts back, the two of them moving to watch the lone wolf stomp back to his truck. Honestly he hadn’t expected Daryl to shift, or to agree to go with them, but it looked like they had a loose cannon to bring along. Great.

Glancing to Rick they share a nod, and in a rare moment of pure affection Rick moves to place their foreheads together, pressing there firmly in appreciation before pulling away to head to the main truck. The lead truck. The alpha truck.

And of course Shane took his jeep at the back of the group, Rick’s back up and second in command keeping at eye on them all as Rick lead. His beta and more trusted friend allowed to watch his back once again.


	11. Chapter 11

They leave Jim by the side of the road, the old wolf’s fur matted and greying on his muzzle, the bite on his side leaving him weak and unable to shift out from his wolf skin as they drove away. He hadn’t asked for a gun or for any help, he’d simply allowed himself to be laid at the base of a tree and Daryl could see the guilt in his eyes, the thing that had made the man so hollow to him from the beginning. Jacqui is distraught, the strong woman crumbling easily as they continue their journey to the CDC and Daryl follows them all.

He stays in line, stays in human form and hates the feeling of the itch beneath his skin as they travel. Behind him drives Shane, bringing up the rear of the group, protecting their backs and acting like a beta even if he wasn’t even a wolf. It irritates Daryl to have the man so cocky, in a position of power when he knew nothing of wolves or their ways. It was a smack in the face that somehow this human knew so much about their culture than he did, a lifetime of isolation and hatred causing him to be sorely lacking in the ways of a pack.

His body feels wrong being in this form for so long. Daryl feels the need to snap and bite, to prowl on all four of his feet and taste the scent of the air around them even if he knew it would only smell of death and rot. The others don’t know what to do with him, that much is obvious and he has a feeling that if he weren’t such a threat to walkers and bounders, they would have disposed of him a while ago. Merle would have told them where to shove it but he knows how this game of prey and hunter worked and numbers were an advantage when you were on the prey side.

Besides, he could use these people to distract any walkers that came near him if he needed to.

As soon as they pull up to the CDC he’s shifted, before he even gets out of the truck he’s shaking out his red fur and stretching his jaws in a yawn, feeling much more at ease with himself like this. Andrea is still in her wolf form, light colours with muddy paws, looking out of place and more like a domestic bitch than anything else. Leaving the truck with the rest of their vehicles he grabs at his bow, slipping the strap about his neck and letting it hang there as he pads over to the rest of the group.

They’re all in a hushed argument, whispering and spitting to each other as they fight over the doors being closed, Rick determined and snarling, Shane points out the flaws and in the end Daryl is pacing in circles, padding over the floor and watching the walkers get nearer and nearer. Snarling he snaps in their direction, letting his ears flick back and forth between the argument and the oncoming danger. A bounder jerks forward, its skin hanging lose around its jaws, dangling there as it barks and snarls at him, moving to attack and leaving him no choice but to fight back.

Barking out to the others he keeps the bounder at bay, snapping his jaws in return, pouncing and digging in his teeth to stop it completely. The congealed blood tastes vile as he puts it out of its misery, great globules of rancid flesh hanging from his teeth as he tries to call out for the others to hurry it up. Andrea is whining, backed up against Dale’s side, T-Dog is calling for them to make a choice, the kids are crying and fucking hell could they just decide what they were doing?

Huffing out a snarl of annoyance he backs up towards them, keeping himself tense and ready to pounce as the walkers and bounders draw in. They’re surrounded and he’s about ready to snap at Rick and Shane if they don’t hurry it up. His ears flick up as the sound of metal grating against metal, shutter sliding up, doors opening and there’s a burst of white on his peripheral vision as the CDC is opened up to them. A voice calls for them to hurry up, to get inside and he doesn’t need to be told twice when a walker lunges for him, the dead thing stumbling to the ground as he turns tail and bolts inside, the crossbow about his neck and paws skidding on the tiled surface.

The doors snap shut, locking out the outside world, cutting them off from it all and there’s silence for a moment, nothing more than the sound of them all panting for breath as a scientist steps forward. Snarling a little he’s still on edge, not willing to trust anyone at all, let alone someone with a gun and no reason to be kind to them. They all band together, not a pack but acting like one, pressed to each other, standing before the children and one unit as the doctor explains the situation to them.

Rick and Shane are beside him, both in human skin but Daryl can feel the tension in Rick and how he wants to let his lip curl up and bare his real fangs. The guy introduces himself as Doctor Jenner, and explains that he’ll allow them in so long as they all give him some blood so he can test them. Daryl doesn’t like the sound of that, but his growl is cut off when Rick’s hand moves to his neck, his fingers running through the fur on his scruff and it’s strange to find it so calming when he’s so tense. Looking up to the two men he can see they’re still tense but willing to give it a shot and he allows himself to follow their lead as they all crowd into the elevator.

He doesn’t like small spaces at the best of times, but one like this that resembles a cage more than anything? It was awful and he presses himself into the corner, hating that to fit they all have to stand so close to the point that he’s practically hunkered down in the space between Glenn’s legs. His rear is pressed to the corner of the metal box, bracing him there as his paws slip on the shiny flooring. As soon as the doors open he bolts out, shaking himself off and not caring if everyone’s watching him closely as he paces back and forth, enjoying the wider, open space of the main room. It’s still underground, but it’s better than a cage.

Everyone else looks on edge too, they all stay close in the bright white room and Jenner calls out to some bodiless entity to control the lights for them. He doesn’t like things that don’t have their own body, he finds they shouldn’t be trusted and despite his dislike of the group he remains close as they’re lead through to place on a mini tour before the blood tests. Andrea lopes along beside him, uncaring and tail down low, she looks pathetic, there’s no pride left within herself as she stays in mourning, looking less wolf and more dog. He huffs and moves up to pad alongside Rick and Shane at the head of the group, not shaking off the hand when the Grimes’ pup reaches out to run his fingers over his scruff automatically.

Jenner takes all their blood, only a vial full of each and though the children pout and whimper, Carl even shifting at one point and growling before his mother gets ahold of him, it gets done until Jenner reaches he and Andrea. “I’ve never drawn blood from a wolf before, I’d feel more comfortable if you both shifted.”

Well he’d feel more comfortable if he didn’t and right now he was the one with fangs and claws. Growling he bares his teeth, standing firm and not even giving in to the idea of shifting for this man. Andrea has other ideas and simply lopes forward, shifting into her human shape and looking so pale, so lifeless and lacking in anything even resembling the strength she had shown before in the quarry. Daryl whines as she walks past when she’s done, Carl joining him and he knows the feeling of sharing distress of a packmate.

Except these people weren’t his packmates and he didn’t owe them anything.

Huffing a little he steps forward and places his paw on Jenner’s lap, watching him closely with amber eyes and uncaring if the human felt tense beneath his touch. Good, so he should be afraid, it was easier when people were fearful of you, it kept them at bay. The needle stings as it pierces his flesh but Jenner does well enough and gets some blood from him, leaving him to lick at the small wound as they’re led to the canteen in the back of the facility.

Daryl knows he shouldn’t be as excited as he is to have real food, he’s a wolf and when he’d been younger if you hadn’t caught it you didn’t eat it but even he had to admit the smell of actual food makes his stomach rumble something awful. He doesn’t care if everyone stares as he shifts alongside Andrea, the two of them sitting beside each other as Jenner brings out plates and plates of food hot from the oven and full of flavour. “Oh now you shift?” Shane asks him and Daryl gives a shrug as he tears in to some meat, not giving a shit about manners.

“’s food.” He speaks around a mouthful and gives a toothy grin when Lori scoffs at his behaviour. Let her hate him, she barely acted wolf at all so he’d have to do it for the both of them. “n drink.” He damn near snarls Dale off when he grabs for the alcohol, staking a claim on the whole bottle and enjoying the burn of it down his throat when he very rarely drank the stuff. The evening goes on, everyone drinking and chatting, actually seeming happy for once and at ease. The Asian kid is getting redder and redder with the more wine he has, and Daryl would mock him if he didn’t feel quite so happy to just remain in a buzz right now.

They all follow Jenner down the halls, he shows them different rooms and then he makes a mention of hot water and everyone is immediately heading for the luxury, including himself. He wasn’t one for cleaning, it wasn’t a priority to him at all and besides most of the time his flesh was covered in fur anyway, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Hot water was hot water and he’d be a fool to say no to it.

It’s like heaven and he’d never thought he’d appreciate being clean quite so much. Usually he was happy to just get himself wet and then dry off, but with all the lotions and various bottles of labelled items around him he decides to take the luxury whilst he can. The alcohol in his system makes it seem like an even better idea and soon enough he’s smelling of about eight different shampoos and body washes as he shifts back into wolf form. He wasn’t feeling quite so stable on two legs so four would be easier.

By the smell of it everyone was in their own rooms, probably trying to get some much needed rest whilst he wavered his way back to the main room, needing the space for the moment. Shaking himself dry he’s uncaring of the wet spatter he leaves on the floor, padding his way over to where Rick sits on a desk beside Jenner. He can smell the other wolf is drunk, completely wasted and he and Jenner speak. Daryl heads over and somehow manages to lift the wrong two paws at the same time and topple into a trash can and slip beneath an empty desk.

Barking out a laugh he remains there for a moment, surrounded by mixed up papers and feeling the buzz of alcohol around his system. There’s the sound of footsteps walking away and he’s aware that it’s Jenner for a second before teeth grip gently around his tail and tug on him. Glancing up he finds himself looking at Rick, the large brown wolf grinning to him, eyes glazed from the drink and tail high in the air and wagging in delight.

It’s stupid and childish but he misses Merle and he’s drunk so who cares? But Daryl pounces on Rick, chasing the other wolf around the open space and darting between desks and chairs as they play a game of chase. Rick is quick, a little larger than he but it’s obvious he doesn’t spend as much time in this form as Daryl and soon enough they’re scrapping, play fighting on the tiled floor and Daryl is trying to pin him down. It’s harmless and it doesn’t mean anything, even when Rick mouths at his muzzle and gives a growl he can tell it’s in the spirit of fun and doesn’t take it as a move for dominance. Together they wrestle, sometimes Rick using his weight to sit on him and other time Daryl using Rick’s drunkenness against him until they’re both panting heavily and lying beside each other on the floor.

Daryl hates how good it feels to be here right now, with another wolf and feeling so at ease. It’s almost as if Merle was back only it was more fun and there was no worry of setting his brother off into a real fight. Sprawled on the floor he knows he’s going to be sleeping here tonight, in the open and not in a cage where he felt uncomfortable. When Rick shifts beside him to return to his mate and son he thinks nothing of it and he blames it all on the drink when Rick presses their foreheads together in a pack’s way of saying farewell and he doesn’t snap at him.


End file.
